Becoming a barmaid was a real surprise for me. It was even more so for dear old dad. He clutched his chest, went down, and never looked back. They say it was a case of the old heart giving out.

I say it was the realization that the countless dreams he’d pinned on me shattered then. I mean, sure it led to the stroke, but that’s rather less poetic.

Neither of those lines was poetic but I still fancy myself a poet. And a rapscallion and scoundrel!

Perhaps I should lay off on the drinks.

Actually, this tankard's empty. Barkeep, I'd like another please.

What do you - no of course I have coin. What are you implying?

Do you want me to come over there?

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I'll be frank with you - I didn't realize he had that many friends with him.

Ah, nothing like a good fight to sober you up right? Wait how long have you been writing this down?

You really - fine. Where was I? Right.

So there I was, dumb with shock, dad dying six feet to my left, the tattoo that would brand me for life slowly imprinting onto my arm. What did I do next? Well, I’ll tell you what.

I bolted out that tent faster than anything. By the time my aunt got around to screaming her head off, I was already out the town, clinging onto my pony for dear life.

You see, I’d prepared a bolt bag a while ago. I had assumed I would’ve been a knight or something near, and then I’d get out of town and live life as an adventurer. It wasn’t an unreasonable thought then, see? I mean, now we know noble blood has nothing to do with the role giving but no one knew that then.

I’m aware now that becoming a barmaid probably should’ve put a rather severe dent in my plans and I should’ve stopped to rethink my future. Fortunately, for most of Sigel, I didn’t.

As I was saying – I made a quick break for the farthest town I could get to on a week’s worth of supply. I ended up at a city called the Sleepy Mountain.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I call it a city and it calls itself sleepy, but truth be told, it was barely the first and far from the second.

No, it definitely was not a city. It was the Sleepy Mountain University in all its gluttonous glory, holding over a million students within its walls. Within it, whole families would be ingested by the system, integrated into its various functions almost from birth.

The sheer volume of its students ensured its steady turnout of prominent royal court magicians and emperor knights. It fed the university more funds and allowed it to grow ever larger in a self-perpetuating cycle. It was like watching someone feed a pig its own young to fatten the former – disgusting and morbid, but you’ll still eat the fattened pig.

As for its supposed state of slumber? Perish the thought. Even if there weren’t the constant skirmishes and activities organized by the school, the very active underground community that’s sprung up around the rigid ruling caste and magic-fuelled, sleep-deprived students would be enough activity to keep several countries worth of citizens occupied for decades on end. And that’s all in a month.

But that’s enough aggrandizing and flaw picking. The point was, I had made it to the Valley, and not a moment too late. I rode the poor pony to the ground right outside the gates of the city. Dragging her the rest of the way was actually quite manageable. It was something to do with ‘barmaid’s strength’ helping me lift the dead weight.

A useful tidbit about somewhere having over a million residents and just as much traffic – it makes it simple to sneak in, not that I did. I bribed the guard on duty with a loaf of bread.

It wasn’t much of a bribe; I’ll give you that. It was also all I had then. Thinking back now, it was pretty fortunate the guard was feeling snacky at the time.

After that, it was smooth sailing to the nearest inn. I didn’t have to like the role I was given, but by the Three, you can be sure I was going to squeeze every ounce of use I could out of it.

I had planned hard on the journey you see – these production-type roles were looked down on all the time, but where would we be without them? No knight or mage nor even a farmer would be willing to work as a barmaid. That made me indispensable to the inns, see?

I mean, that’s what I thought at least. I ended up settling at the Broken Sword for a room, three meals, and stable space. It was the highest any of the inns would offer me – they were using their children as free labor those cheap bastards.

Thing is, they didn’t offer feed for my pony – Hop, as I’d named her by now – it was deemed to be out of their scope as employers. I would have to not only earn my keep, but Hop’s as well.

To keep it succinct, it means I’ve been forced to take a second job or watch Hop starve to death. It was unfortunate for me, then, that I had grown quite the relationship with Hop. Never mind that all she did was snort at me, I couldn’t stand by and watch my friend waste away.

I do care for my friends. I love my friends a lot. Hey did I tell you I was friends with Fate? Can we skip to that part?

You know what, scribe? I rather like you – care for another drink?

It is at this point that this humble scribe will retire for the night. Lady Leitguard has become quite inebriated and easily distracted due to the late hour. It is of this one’s hope that a new day will bring about better clarity in the Lady’s ramblings recollections. This text was transcribed by the Scribe Re